426
PARTISAN REVIEW
the sky and again 1 remembered the comet. Above, there was a
perfectly formed path along which the comet, full of fire , would pass
many years later when my son would be as old as 1 then was. And
now it no longer grieved me that time had passed, as it did that time
at the parade. 1 had begun to understand the ultimate truth of
things.
The vision of the comet's path made me stop continuing to pull
things out of those dark deeps in me. Your absence was very long
but your return so certain that 1 was ashamed of the smallness of my
actions. 1 tore up the letter I'd written myself to show my friend's
wife . Neither the letter nor the woman herself was important any
longer.
1 went to bed again, determined to think no more about all
that , but the black birds kept emerging from the depths of the bottle.
The action of my will kept many inside, but 1 couldn't stop watching
those already in flight. Some of those birds were Lanus, Liniers,
Pompeya, Buenos Aires. At that period you were the follower. I
rented cheap rooms in one place and another (I had a woman), try–
ing to hide from you so you wouldn't find out about my poverty. But
at times I'd come home and my neighbors would say, "Some military
man was here . He left this card." 1 had to go see you then and you
reproached me for "the scandalous life" 1 was lead ing . Another time
you sent two soldiers to fumigate my room . They took my papers
and clothes and burned everything in the patio . You told me it was
because of the filth so you'd ordered them to burn it all. But among
them were papers valuable to me , photographs, souvenirs, news–
paper clippings , documents. My companion and 1 decided then to
move, but your soldiers always arrived and harassed us, or you ap–
peared and left those cards. After that the revolts began and you
stopped following us. You appeared in the newspapers. When my
neighbors and friends heard me say 1 was your father many of them
laughed at me , but many others believed it. Finally we went to live in
Boedo, where we rented a garage. There my woman died and 1 went
back to Cordoba, where dona Dora took me in. Then came my ill–
ness and with it my lucidity, my understanding of so many things.
But the day after that night 1 went back to the lead drummer's
house . We had played three hands of truco when the woman asked
me about the letter. I played the fool, answering half in truth, halfin
jest, telling her in a little while I'd pull it out of my inside pocket. I
loved making her laugh , acting out different personalities and dis–
guising my voice. She was very simple and laughed at anything pro-
